clearing a closet

There is a load of bustle to tackle after the dust clears from an extended health crisis and passing. Preparing for the memorial service had a deadline and sweet energy to it. Since then there is insurance and airplane miles, mounds of medical receipts and records. In my foggy brain these tasks relate to each other in a parallel way, each seeming equally important. This perspective makes no sense, but it does ensure that, even if slowly, it will all get done. I work my way through an hour or so a day. I finally applied for the kids to get their own TSA-pre cards now that they have aged past being able to surf through airport security on mine. This has been on our list for a few years.

I have the urge to clear lists and pursue simplicity, always a target but not traditionally a strength of mine. As B grew sicker , there was a gradual shedding of what was nonessential. Now that he is gone I see so much surplus in our lives. I don’t mean that we should be ridding ourselves of comforts, although perhaps we should do that too, but I feel suddenly burdened by that which is unfinished or unneeded.

I can’t yet tackle B’s things, although I did put his coat from the hook back into the closet and move the books he was reading up to his office. The rest will be another project for another day. But, I did wrestle through my own drawers and clothes, shedding at least half of what was there. It was a difference I could make. And perhaps a way to procrastinate getting to the papers.

Because it is still recent, there are sweet nuggets of closeness that appear around us: Honey Dijon Kettle Chips that B sent me to Whole Foods to buy but which never got eaten; a TV series (or two) that B and I started but I can still now finish, kind of feeling with him while I do. I cannot stop the expiration of these nuggets, so I savor the recentnesses while I still can.

And meanwhile, the kids go to school, I dial into work, and we all marvel at the cold spell, which has been frigid but not as bad for us in New England as has been in the Midwest. I meet people for coffee or a meal more than I used to.

Interested in stories of real or metaphorically cleared closets.